Gaol
by fangirlwithak
Summary: It's a full-time job, worrying about Sirius Black. However, she's so busy caring about him, she conveniently forgets that there's nobody around to focus on her...


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of its related affiliations. Just to make that clear...

Author's Notes: This was originally written as a pick-me-up for Pelespen, who has a soft spot for Sirius/Hermione (though I don't blame her; I have one too LOL). Also, taking this moment to apologize: I've been digging through my computer to find old stories to post to FFdotNet, but... more than half my stuff has ratings I'm wary of putting up here, since this site went relatively family-friendly years ago. If you ARE of age and are interested, feel free to follow my author's page to my fic-journal. Otherwise, on to the show!

* * *

The door to the holding cell slammed open and the two young men dozing on cots sat up in tandem. The officer in the doorway glared down at them, torn between disapproval at their behaviour and relief that they would no longer be his problem. "Your bail's been posted," he barked, his irritation growing as the two shared a secret grin. "You're free to go. Consider yourselves lucky that I'm not holding you on multiple charges of contempt."

"He could try," one of the men—really, a boy still—muttered to his friend, just sotto enough that the officer could still hear. "But I doubt he's a masochist." They both stood up and walked towards the door.

The other man paused briefly, adjusted his spectacles, and promptly punched his friend in the arm. "Will you shuddup, Sirius?" he hissed. "My parents are already going to kill us. Or did you forget that this is a Muggle prison? They'd be happier if I ended up with a life sentence in Azkaban. At least that way, the Ministry wouldn't be breathing down my Dad's back about the Statue of Secrecy."

Sirius grinned back and threw an arm over his friend's shoulders. The officer could appreciate the bespectacled boy's—Potter, was it?—grudging acceptance towards his oncoming doom, even if he had no clue what the boy was mumbling about. Potter was, at least, trying to act conciliatory. His friend, _Sirius_, on the other hand was all grins, laughter, and unquenchable charm. The officer would bet that this wasn't the delinquent's first run-in with the law and he doubted if it'd be the last. That boy would wind up with a life sentence one of these days if he weren't careful. The officer pursed his lips and motioned for the boys to follow.

"It's a good thing for Moony, then, isn't it?" Sirius asked as he followed the officer out of the room and down the hall. "Your parents will never have to learn that— " he froze as they exited the hallway and entered the heart of the station. "What is she doing here?" he demanded. The officer was pleased to hear Sirius's tone melt from self-congratulating to sharp and brittle.

A young lady looked up from where she was signing the last of the paperwork. She pushed back her cropped, voluminous brown hair to scowl at the two. Her expression was dark. The officer knew that it could not bode well for the boys and, inside, a small part of him cheered her on.

Instead of responding to Sirius's accusatory demand, she smiled slightly at the officer. "I'm sorry for those two," she apologized. "I hope they weren't too much trouble."

Sirius bristled at her tone, obviously not happy at being treated like a child and its baby-sitter and not like an adult who had ended up incarcerated. "We decided to ignore three separate charges of contempt," the officer informed her, appreciating the respect that she gave him, the respect that was absent in her friends' demeanours. "There will, however, be the fine." He turned to glare at the boys. Sirius was fuming, Potter looked contrite. "If I see either of you here again, I won't be as easy on you," he threatened. "You're adults. You should grow up and act like one."

The woman pushed back the completed paperwork and sighed. "I think every person imaginable has told them that at least once. See how well the message has stuck?" She glared at them, a look Sirius mirrored. "Let's go before you end up back in the cell. I refuse to bail you out a second time."

"Wait! What about my bloody bike?" Sirius protested loudly, seething. "I'm not going anywhere without it! What happened to her?"

The girl pursed her lips before turning about, expecting them to follow. "It's been impounded at a community lot. If you want that monstrosity back, you can get it yourself. I'm done here."

"Just shut it, Sirius," Potter muttered, grabbing his friend's arm and dragging him along. "You can get the bike on your own. If Moony couldn't come to bail us out, Jean's our only choice. If we wind up back in jail because you couldn't keep your mouth shut, we'll be stuck there until the Ministry can arrange our way out."

The silence only lasted another thirty seconds or so. James noted that they hadn't even gotten a block away before Sirius could no longer remain quiet; he was too livid to maintain the silence for long and Jean's uptight posture as she quietly led them through the darkened Muggle streets only fuelled his temper. "Where's Remus?" Sirius demanded when they'd gotten about twenty paces away from the police station. "We called him to get us out." The unspoken message of, _And you're the last person I want to see right now _was understood.

Jean maintained her silence for a short period, testing Sirius's patience. James privately concluded that she was purposely trying to build his friend's ire to fuel out some of her own irritation. "Remus was busy," she finally replied. Her voice was as rigid as her posture.

"Too busy to help his friends in a time of need?" Sirius asked snidely.

Jean's head snapped to the side to glare at him over her shoulder. She had mastered the McGonagall Lip-Purse, James sullenly acknowledged. The look she was giving Sirius could have stripped wallpaper. "Too busy to help a couple of boys cover up their tracks, especially considering you two are adults and should have known better," she corrected. "Or would you rather he'd gone to Lily and asked for her help?" She was silent for another moment before grudgingly adding, "He's got a job interview early in the morning. He couldn't afford to come out and post bail for a few idiots at three in the morning."

James froze. Lily. Possibly the last person he'd want to know he'd ended up in a Muggle prison, even if it _was _all Sirius's fault. It had been an informative evening. Muggle motorcycles were, apparently, frowned upon in Muggle suburbia after a certain time on a weeknight. Speeding in Muggle streets was also a problem, they'd discovered. Running from the police, on the other hand, could have worked... if they hadn't run straight into another police car. If- when?- Lily found out, he'd be so much trouble that he'd wish he hadn't stopped Sirius from breaking the Statue of Secrecy and flown them out of the situation. Jean's expression clearly told him that it was only a matter of time until Lily found out, too. Then, he'd be boiled alive.

"You're not my mother, you have no right to lecture me," Sirius airily retorted, his tone carefully controlled enough to underline an oncoming argument.

"Well, somebody's got to," Jean replied testily. Her hands were clenched at her sides and her nails were digging into her palms. "You don't have an ounce of common sense. The officer at the station was correct. You need to start acting like the adults you are before you end up in Azkaban for something serious."

"For somebody who hates Divination, you're sure relying heavily on futuristic 'what-if'' scenarios. I'm an adult. I don't need you to sit on my shoulder and act as my guilty conscience."

Jean let out a hallow laugh, her voice echoing around the empty, dark street. James slowly backed away from the couple, wondering if he could make his escape before the next fight began.

"That's what you call 'being an adult?' A thrilling police chase through Muggle suburbia, dragging James along for the ride? When is it ever going to occur to you that your actions have consequences? When will you realize that your recklessness just drags other people down, too?" She threw her hands up in the air and furiously tugged on her hair in frustration. "When are you ever going to care about somebody that isn't Sirius Black?"

"Is that what this is all about?" Sirius demanded, taking a step forward and making Jean crane her head to maintain eye contact. The two kept progressively getting closer until they were only a hand span apart. James began to wonder if he should intervene before they both broke the Statue by duelling in the Muggle streets. "You're still angry that I wasn't willing to change myself so we could live your happily ever after fantasy?" It was Sirius's turn to let out a bark of bitter laughter. "Wake up, Princess. This is who I am. If you can't accept me for that, it's no wonder the relationship turned sour."

Immediately, James wished he'd stopped Sirius from talking when he'd first thought of it. In an instant, the air on the street had turned cold and Jean's face had frozen in a mixture of shock, anger, and hurt before softening into a carefully blank look. Her eyes were distant but her nails were digging into her palms so sharply that James guessed that she'd need a dittany bath in the morning.

"You're absolutely right," she responded, her voice monotonous. "The relationship turned sour because I couldn't accept you for who you are." Her chuckle was watery and she turned on her heels, away from them. "I guess my expectations for you were too high. For some reason, I'd had this idea that there must have been more to you. Looks like I was wrong." She cleared her throat, shuffling away from them. "You two can find your own way home from here." With a _pop_, she was gone.

They stood alone in the dark, Muggle street for several moments. James was the first to break the silence. "At Hogwarts, you were one of the top students in our year. I don't know when you got to be so stupid, but I know it wasn't my fault." He turned away from Sirius. "I need to get home and work out some damage control before Lily leaves _me_. I'll see you around." Then, he too Apparated away, leaving Sirius alone to sulk in the dark.

* * *

Normally, Sirius was the life and soul of parties and public functions. He'd discovered in his fifth year at Hogwarts that, with a bottle of Firewhisky, any party could be made memorable. He was the first to arrive, carrying a bottle of whatever he could get his hands on, and the first to leave, with the most attractive women on his arms. Tonight, though, he just didn't feel like partying. He'd stuck around long enough to make his best man speech before slinking off with a bottle of champagne ("Champagne, James? What do I look like? A _girl_? Morganna's tits! Where's all the good stuff? It's a wedding. How are we supposed to celebrate if somebody's great aunt can't even get tipsy?"). Now, he was out on a distant balcony, legs sprawled out in front of him and his back up against a corner wall, cloaked in the shadows while wishing he'd thought to bring along a flask of something stronger.

James and Lily would be a happy couple. They'd have beautiful babies with James's hair and Lily's eyes. James, however, could no longer be counted on to have fun- he was technically an adult now, right?- so it'd be up to Sirius to be the good uncle. He'd make sure to get James's children the best broomsticks money could buy. He'd sneak into their dorms at Hogwarts, as Padfoot, for surprise visits. They'd take walks through the Hogsmeade and he'd chase pigeons for amusement. And he'd teach them about Maraudering. He'd be the best damn godfather- he'd better be godfather to James's first-born or he'd do something drastic- in the world.

Just imagining James's future family, though, drove Sirius to the bottle. He took a long swig of the champagne and grimaced at the sweet aftertaste it left in his mouth. James was an adult now. There'd be nobody to have fun with, not with Lily and responsibility looming in the background. Not to say that he wasn't happy for James, because he was. James and Lily seemed to click together in a way that best friends couldn't. Sirius just wished that they didn't all have to grow up. It wasn't as much fun being an adult. Sirius had sworn off of responsibility when he was thirteen. He refused to start now.

A furious array of "clacks" alerted Sirius that somebody- probably a woman; he'd never forget the sound of stilettos against marble- was about to break his solitude. The person was moving swiftly and a second pair of footsteps, more padded than heels, most likely male, followed her. Sirius opened his mouth to tell them off when the woman spoke. He immediately shut it, recognizing the voice. It was Jean. Sirius silently fumed, the alcohol increasing his jealousy. Why the hell was she bringing another man with her to a remote, dark balcony?

"You shouldn't have come, Harry. It's dangerous enough with me being here. What if somebody had seen you? How would you explain that one?"

"Maybe you're the one who should consider the chances we're taking. Hermione, the Ministry Timer says that you've been here for three years. What the hell is going on?"

Sirius started to further alertness. Jean had addressed her companion as 'Harry,' yet wasn't that James's voice? And why was he calling her 'Hermione?' Sirius struggled to sit up and move to a position where he could see the two.

He could easily recognize Jean. She was wearing a pretty, knee-length periwinkle Muggle dress with a neckline that he, as her former lover, highly approved of, yet as a man, was greatly disappointed in. The stilettos on her feet, however, nearly made up for the high neck of her dress, accenting her delicious calves. Her hair madly fought to escape the bun she'd pinned it into, tendrils framing her serious face. Even a handful of yards away, he could still make out her beautiful eyes. He could also see a note of concern and dismay in her expression.

Her companion, however, made Sirius's brows furrow. Why was James wearing Muggle street clothes and why wasn't he with Lily on their wedding day?

Jean sighed and turned away from them, crossing her arms in front of her and gazing out onto the horizon. "I can't help it. When the Ministry first asked me to research this, I tried to convince them against it. I knew that I wouldn't be able to walk away. You know I get too emotionally involved with these things. Remember S.P.E.W?"

James's face cracked into a grudging smile and he chuckled. Sirius's confusion grew. It was James's face, but he never laughed like that. Sirius had spent their days at Hogwarts making fun of James's chuckle because it sounded like a mix between a schoolgirl and a chicken. This was nothing like it.

"Professor McGonagall only just convinced the house elves it was safe to clean Gryffindor Tower again. It's safe to say that nobody is going to forget S.P.E.W, even after they're tried their hardest." His face grew serious once again. "But you need to come home now, Hermione. Any more time here and you risk permanently altering the continuum."

Jean's fists clenched. Sirius couldn't see her face from where she was turned, but he could imagine that her eyes had snapped shut in irritation and that her mouth was pinched together tightly. "Have you ever considered that maybe, the continuum should be altered?" She ignored her companion's sputter of protest. "Harry, think of it. Half of the people in that room- more than half of them!- are going to die. They're going to be murdered. How can you possibly consider letting that happen?"

"Hermione, you need to stop there."

Her companion, Sirius was positive now, was not James. For as much as he looked and sounded like his friend, there was a different air about him. The man held himself differently, more weary and considerably less confident. "Do you actually think I want any of that to happen? That I don't realize that most of their deaths are on my shoulders?" This time, he ignored her sputter of protest. "What happens if things change for the worse, though? What if Voldemort wins this time? And why do _you _have to be the martyr? What if _you're _the one who dies?" He sighed, a weary sound, and ran a hand through his hair. "Hermione, you already suffered through one war. Ron told me that you still have nightmares about Bellatrix Lestrange." Sirius flinched hard enough that the champagne in the bottle sloshed violently. "You need to move on. You can't be a hero all the time."

Her responding sob tore at Sirius's heart. Yeah, he had angered her before, made her cry, but he'd never heard such a despairing sound come out of her. Damning the consequences, he stepped forward from the shadows, his wand drawn and pointed at Jean's companion menacingly. "What the hell is going on?" he demanded. For having drunk the better part of two champagne bottles, his voice and demeanour were surprisingly steady. He gazed at Jean in concern, thoroughly shaken at her shocked and distressed face. "Princess, what's wrong?"

"Sirius!" Her mouth opened and closed several times as she fought for the words. "How long have you been out here?"

His wand never left her companion's direction. "As soon as I made my speech, I nabbed a bottle and ran. Too many relatives, not enough hard liquor."

"So you heard everything?" her companion asked.

"You can shut the fuck up," Sirius snapped. His concern began and ended with Jean, and this man had made her cry. "I'm not the one with a wand pointed at his bloody chest."

Jean cracked a watery smile. She moved toward him and tugged his wand arm down. "It's my fault, Sirius. He didn't want to make me cry. He's just doing his job."

"One I've just royally botched up. I don't know how I'm going to explain this to Kingsley," the companion muttered, face dark.

"He doesn't have to know. I've made my decision. I'm not leaving." Her voice was determined and her grip on Sirius's arm was strong.

"Leaving where?" Sirius asked.

"She _needs _to go home," her companion replied, teeth gritted together in agitation.

"I am home," she snapped back. "This place has been more of a home to me than anywhere else."

"Then what about your friends, Hermione?" the other man retorted. "Can you honestly forget about me and Ron that easily? Or what about your job, your livelihood, or your family? How about Crookshanks?"

Sirius winced at the feel of her nails digging through his sleeve. "I won't just walk away and leave these people to their fate. I know enough to make a difference here. Don't make me leave them behind when they need me more."

"Where are you supposed to go, Princess, that you're leaving us all behind?" Sirius asked. This man seemed to know Jean better than even he did. It made Sirius slightly more willing to hear his side of the argument.

"Away." That was all the answer she was willing to give, and her voice cracked over the syllables. Again, Sirius's heart jerked forward. Without thinking, he dropped the champagne bottle and wrapped his arms around her. She accepted his embrace, burying her head into his chest and enfolded her arms about his waist.

"So far away that you can't visit?"

She snorted into his chest, the sound muffled through the fabric, still holding a trace of sob. "Even farther."

"But it's where she belongs," the other man added. He gazed at the two and Sirius could see a trace of understanding in other man's expression.

Sirius sighed and hugged her to him even tighter. "We all know you're a stickler for the rules, Princess. Right now, though, it sounds like they're telling you to go home. Why are you still here?"

She pulled away from his embrace and clenched her fists into the front of his robes. "You don't understand!" She gazed up at Sirius with a mixture of annoyance and desperation. "If I go-"

"A lot of people are going to die?" he supplied.

"_You _are going to die!" she exclaimed, irritation growing.

He snorted. "We all die sometime, Princess."

She slapped a hand against his chest. "I know that, you prat. I meant that you're going to die before you should. I can keep that from happening if-"

"Hermione." Irately, she snapped her head to the side to glare at her friend.

"It's true," she insisted.

"I know it's true. I'm not a monster. It's not easy for me to want this. But it's how it's supposed to be," he replied.

Sirius listened to their exchange, his mind working swiftly to connect all the information, from Jean's sudden arrival and insistence to meet with Dumbledore, to her reluctance to invest in a relationship, to her near divinity towards Death Eater attacks. He made a decision. With one hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her close, he used his other to tilt her chin up. "Princess," he whispered, loud enough to indicate it was for her ears only. "You said that the only person I ever care about is myself, but you're busy thinking about me too. Maybe it's time somebody thought about you for a change." He bent his head down, paused to gaze into her eyes, and forced their lips together in a passionate embrace. It was a desperate kiss full of apology, longing, and good-bye. She seemed to sense it too and struggled against him for a moment before conceding defeat and losing herself into the embrace.

He slipped his wand out of his sleeve and into his hand, took one long, hard glance of her face, and thought, _'Stupefy_!'

Her eyes rolled back into her head and her body immediately fell limp. Sirius caught her in a practiced swoop before she fell to the ground. Silently, he carried her over to the James doppelganger.

"Take good care of her, will you?" he asked as he transferred her to her friend.

The other man smiled back. Up close, Sirius could see his eyes. They were bright green. Once again, his brain madly dashed to connect the dots. "She's the smartest witch in a century. That's usually all it takes to get her into trouble," he said, "But I'll do what I can. Thank you. For watching out for her."

"Somebody needed to," Sirius chuckled, grabbing the now empty bottle of champagne he'd dropped when Jean had rushed forward. He paused as he exited the balcony. "'Harry,' eh?" He smirked and shrugged once. "Good, strong name. I'll have to remember that." With a backwards wave, he left the two to rejoin the wedding party. Maybe Remus knew a good spell that could turn water into whiskey.

* * *

When Hermione regained consciousness, she was lying in the middle of a massive, somewhat musty bed. She blankly stared at the bed curtains, faintly recognizing the colour. The weave on the sheets was also strongly familiar. She absent-mindedly fingered the design. It left no doubt in her mind that she was in Grimmauld Place, and if she were in Grimmauld Place, it was only obvious that she'd left the Marauders behind.

"Good morning." Her hand jerked against the sheets. She looked up to see Harry standing in the doorway. She rolled away from him to stare at the opposite wall.

Harry sighed. "I'm sorry, but it wasn't all my decision, okay? And before you get your hopes up, Kingsley put an end to the time travel project. That's why he sent me in the first place. Turns out the Department of Mysteries hadn't been up and front about the whole mission."

She refused to reply. Her mind was a jumble of emotions and right now, one of them, the biggest one, was a strong desire to punch Harry.

"You don't have to be such a brat about it," Harry mumbled. "Kingsley had the prototype potion destroyed before he realized that things had been altered, that they needed to be fixed. Now, we're stuck with it."

Growing fury was quickly dashed away. Hermione felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped on the bed. "'Fixed?'" She flipped around and scrambled to be free of the blankets. "Fix what?"

"You tell her yet?" Harry was forcefully pushed out of the way as another person barrelled into the room. He froze in the doorway when he saw the look on Hermione's face. "I'll take that as a no?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "You couldn't have waited another thirty seconds?" he asked.

Hermione's eyes, however, were glued to the man in the doorway. "Sirius?" she asked, body trembling.

Sirius Black, albeit aged several decades from the last time she'd seen him last, grinned back. "Looks like you were right about something, Princess," he taunted. His haughty tone was lessened somewhat by his exuberant grin. "Turns out that caring for somebody who _isn't _Sirius Black magically transformed me into an adult."

In two bounds, Hermione had vaulted across the room and flung her arms around Sirius's neck. He staggered slightly but quickly recovered, wrapping his arms around her waist tightly.

"You're not dead," she sobbed openly, clutching at his hair.

"We all die sometimes, Princess," he muttered into her hair. "I just had something worth living for, that's all."

Neither noticed as Harry slipped by and out of the room. They had more important things to focus on.

* * *

End Notes: So... probably not my best or my favorite, but a happy little bit of emotional catharsis none the less, which is what I was going for :)


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